


In Our Bed

by KatieComma



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Bossy Bottom Mac, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, glasses!Mac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 18:49:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16603553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieComma/pseuds/KatieComma
Summary: Jack has just finished moving into Mac's place... and they have their first sexy night together in their home.This is a SUPER smutty follow-up to Home (which was rated G - which is why I didn't put them in a series together - plus you could totally read this standalone)





	In Our Bed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [becauseimawinchester](https://archiveofourown.org/users/becauseimawinchester/gifts).



> Advanced warning: this is much dirtier than my previous smut... there's still lots of emotional stuff, but it's also much raunchier than I normally write. Some who have enjoyed my previous fluffy smut didn't like this one so much. Be warned ye who venture here.
> 
> becauseimawinchester was complaining that we didn't have enough MacDalton smut kicking around lately, and also requested some moving in smut after I wrote Home... so this happened. Here you are m'dear! Hope you enjoyed it! Also: thanks for beta reading your own gift!!!! ;)

When Mac sets foot back on the deck, two cold beers in hand, he stops to watch Jack.

Seated at the fire pit, head leaned back, eyes closed, Jack is kneading at the sore muscles of his neck and shoulders. It’s been a long day; moving bags and boxes for hours, until all of Jack’s belongings were integrated with Mac’s. In _their_ home.

Mac makes his way to the fire pit and crouches down next to Jack. “Here, you take this,” Mac offers one of the bottles. “I’ve got that,” he taps Jack on the shoulder where he’d been rubbing at the muscle.

Jack takes the bottle (hard sell on that one) and Mac pulls up a chair to sit behind, knees framing Jack’s body where he sits on the deck below.

“It’s cool, you don’t have to-” Jack’s words melt into a groan at the first press of Mac’s fingers on his neck.

Words float away with the fire’s smoke, and leave the two in companionable silence while Mac works all of the knots and tiredness from Jack’s neck and shoulders.

What an easy thing it is for him to reach out and touch Jack now. Casual, wonderful, beautiful little touches that, added together, create the intimacy between them. For so long Mac had resisted the urge to reach out and touch Jack. Sure, they shared the shoulder slaps, fist bumps and hugs that bros would, but there were too many other times that Mac wanted to trace a bit of skin gently with his fingertips, or lift Jack’s shirt to see exactly where a beautiful line of muscle ended.

“You’re sure quiet,” Jack says, leaning his head back into Mac’s lap and looking up. Arms over Mac’s knees, Jack leans back heavily between Mac’s legs, putting pressure and friction where he knows it will offer the most excitement. He’s got that sparkle in his dark brown eyes.

“You’re pretty frisky for somebody whose muscles were just, and I’m quoting, ‘sore as the backside of a saloon whore,’” Mac says, quirking an eyebrow. Jack’s going to get his way. Mac’s body has already responded to the motion of Jack gently, and not so subtly, rubbing his back against him.

“Who says I’m frisky?” Jack is mock offended, but he’s not convincing. “Keep dreamin’ sweetheart, I ain’t that easy.”

Mac takes it as the challenge that it is. “Oh no?”

“Nu uh.”

Mac smiles, grabs his beer and takes a quick swig. The rest will be warm by the time he’s done, if he gets his way. Which he will. Despite Jack’s argument to the contrary, he is that easy.

Mac slips out from under Jack’s arms, and down onto the deck where he climbs into Jack’s lap, knees on either side of hips. “You were saying,” he says, slipping his hands up and under Jack’s shirt to tease at the skin there.

“I wasn’t sayin’ nothin’,” Jack’s trying to play it cool, despite the fact that Mac can feel the excitement in his jeans growing by the second.

“Oh, alright then,” Mac says, pretending to slide backward off the bench, “then I’ll just go get the kitchen cleaned up-”

Jack grabs Mac’s hips roughly and pulls him back into place. “Oh come on now,” Jack says, “don’t be such a tease already.”

“That one’s on you tough guy,” Mac smiles leaning down like he’s going to kiss Jack, but instead he licks Jack’s bottom lip and pulls back again.

“You got me.” Jack says huskily, slipping his hands up the back of Mac’s shirt. His fingertips feel electric against Mac’s bare skin, and Mac arches forward, his cock sliding against Jack’s through their clothes and eliciting a dirty moan from both of them.

This time when Mac leans in to kiss there’s no room for teasing. They close the distance so quickly that their mouths clash, and five o’clock shadows scrape where their coordination fails. Outside of the bedroom they are normally so in-sync; able to read each other’s looks and body language. But as soon as they get excited all of that coordination goes out the window, making everything a grasping, needy surprise every time.

The fire is hot at Mac’s back as it dies down behind them. Jack is putting out his own intense warmth, and Mac is trapped between fires, warmed through on both sides.

Their messy kisses push Mac’s glasses against his nose awkwardly and he pulls away from Jack, sitting up tall. He slips the glasses up into his hair; two birds with one stone: hair that’s getting a bit too long out of his face, and glasses out of the way.

Jack uses the opportunity to quickly undo the buttons on Mac’s shirt. Fingers that are so adept at combat, refilling clips, and pulling triggers are fast and nimble and the shirt is sliding from Mac’s shoulders before he has any choice in the matter. Jack sits up tall and puts his mouth to work on Mac’s skin, licking his chest and spreading warm saliva over the most sensitive areas. Taking each nipple into his mouth in turn and drawing sounds from the back of Mac’s throat.

Mac grinds his hips down into Jack as he leans in for another bout of rough kissing, hands in Jack’s crew cut. Mac definitely understands the appeal for long hair, what he wouldn’t give to have a handful to grip.

Jack’s quick fingers are at work again, the clink of Mac’s belt buckle loud between their close bodies.

“Wait, wait!” Mac gasps, stilling Jack’s hands with his own. He sits up and looks around.

The back deck is sheltered, but not completely. They’re visible to some neighbours and Mac doesn’t want to be the guy who’s seen, or heard, having sex on his back deck. Not when some of his neighbours are a little past their prime.

“Not here,” Mac says, still trying to regain his breath.

“Where else?” Jack asks, running his hands up Mac’s back again.

Mac gets out of Jack’s lap, and takes his hand. “Inside, alright?”

“Alright, alright,” Jack sighs, gripping Mac’s hand tight.

They barely make it through the door before Mac slams Jack up against the wall.

“If my butt just cracked your drywall, that is not my fault and I ain’t fixin’ it,” Jack says.

Mac leans against Jack, pushing their hips together, hard. “First, it’s _our_ drywall now,” Mac says, “and it’s alright. I can make a quick homemade mud out of flour, salt, and-”

“‘Course you can,” Jack says, a hand behind Mac’s neck to pull him in to kiss again. Their loud sloppy kisses are accompanied by smacking sounds that echo around the entryway.

Mac pulls back and peels Jack’s shirt over his head. As he leans forward, Jack resists and pushes him back a little.

“We are not doin’ this right here,” Jack protests.

“Why’s that?” Mac says, raising an eyebrow and putting his mouth to Jack’s neck.

“Well, cause we’ve got an audience that I don’t much appreciate,” Jack says.

Mac’s heart hits his throat and he turns, half expecting for the door to be open and the gang to be standing there. But instead, Jack’s pointing to the Telly Savalas painting they’d hung earlier in the day right next to Mac’s polar bear, Rutherford.

He slaps Jack playfully on the bare chest, eliciting a smack.

“Ow!” Jack complains, grabbing Mac’s hands in his own and pulling him close.

Mac leans into it, his weight pinning Jack to the wall. “You scared the hell out of me! I thought somebody had walked in on us!”

“Nope, I told everybody to steer clear tonight,” Jack says softly.

“And you say you’re not easy,” Mac's laughter ripples his bare skin where it touches Jack’s. He grips Jack’s hands loosely in his own, intertwining their fingers. “So…” Mac trails off, kissing Jack’s neck. “Not on the deck, and not in front of Rutherford. What do you suggest?”

Distracted by the soft kisses Mac continues to sloppily place, Jack doesn’t answer.

Mac licks a line along Jack’s jaw, stubble rough on his tongue, before reaching an ear. Mac is feeling more than a little turned on, and more than a little raunchy and chooses his words accordingly. “I want you to fuck me in our bed,” he breathes. The dirty talk feels weird on his tongue, but gets the effect he was hoping for.

Jack’s breath catches in his throat, and he repeats the last three words softly. “In our bed.”

Mac can feel Jack’s muscles tense up, and knows from past experience that Jack is holding himself in check, waiting for the go ahead. But Mac isn’t ready to give it quite yet. He’s enjoying being in charge. Pushing off from Jack, he drags him down the hall by the hand, pulling the glasses from his hair and dropping them on the hall table. Stupid things just get in the way anyways.

Jack pulls him to a stop, and Mac turns to find Jack holding the glasses up. “Keep ‘em on,” Jack says with a grin, holding out the black frames.

“You’ve really got a thing for the glasses,” Mac says with a grin, taking them and slipping them back on.

“I’ve really got a thing for _you_ in glasses,” Jack says, and then affectionally tacks on: “nerd,” quietly as he steps in close.

There are few things beyond sweaty bodies, hands, and mouths that really get Jack revved up. Mac doesn’t mind that one of those extra things is specific to him.

They breath each other’s air, but don’t move to kiss or say another word.

Mac runs a hand back through his hair nervously, and it’s the spark that sets Jack off. They stumble over feet toward the bedroom, hands undoing belts and opening pants, tongues and mouths reaching for whatever they can get: cheek, ear, lips, throat, hand.

It’s a race and Jack wins, those combat-quick hands faster than Mac’s as they reach into boxers and grip Mac tightly. At the sudden touch Mac’s body jerks with pleasure and he huffs out a moan as he falls against Jack.

“I wanna see you wearin’ those glasses and nothin’ else,” Jack whispers, his hand moving too fast, too tight, too soon and making Mac whimper, mouth open, teeth scraping against shoulder.

Jack lets go as quickly as the whole thing started, and slips Mac’s boxers to the floor, staring up at him hungrily from his knees. But that hunger slowly fades to affection. One of the things Mac’s learned and come to love about Jack is the way his emotions show so readily on his face. It was one of the things he’d loved about Jack when they were just friends, but as lovers it’s a whole new experience for Mac. Sex before Jack was always about lust and feeling good, but with Jack it involves a whole lot of love and affection which takes the experience and the sensations to a whole new level.

“Clothes off,” Mac demands, and then points to his bed… their bed.

Jack smiles and stands up, turning away from Mac and sliding his belt free of the buckle while he walks toward the bed with his famous Dalton swagger. “Jeeze, you’re awful bossy tonight.” His pants drop to the floor and he steps free of them, keeping his back to Mac.

Mac walks up behind him and runs his hands over taught back muscle and soft skin. He massages Jack’s tight shoulders and presses his thumbs in just above the shoulder blades. Jack moans appreciatively. Mac shifts his hands lower and lower, fingers teasing any remaining stress from Jack’s body as he goes. When he reaches hip, he presses his body up against Jack, slipping his hands around to slide down Jack’s tight abdomen and take his hard cock in hand. The strokes are slow and soft, teasing, as Mac grinds his hips and his own hardness against Jack.

“Come on Mac,” Jack whines, “faster.”

“I don’t think so,” Mac says softly into Jack’s ear. “Nice. And. Slow. Tonight.” Each word punctuated by the torturously slow movement of his hand.

“If you keep that up I might just have to take matters into my own hands,” Jack warns.

“That right, Sarge?” Mac can’t get the words out without smiling. Jack hates being called Sarge. Always hated being reminded of his rank in the army whenever he was around Mac. After Jack signed up for his extended tour he’d insisted they were equals. No ranks between them.

“That’s enough’a that,” Jack growls, spinning around. His hands are immediately in Mac’s hair, tongue in his mouth and the kisses are messy and passionate as their bodies rub hard against each other. Jack pulls back, smile on his face. “I’ve heard about enough’a that _Specialist MacGyver_.”

“Really? What are you gonna do about it?” Mac challenges with a grin.

“I’m gonna shut you up, is what I’m gonna do.” Jack chuckles in that mischievous way that in the field means bad news, but in the bedroom means a whole lot of fun. The kisses start at Mac’s mouth as Jack turns them around, but quickly stray to the birthmark at his jawline, then his neck, chest, ticklish spot on his ribs, lower and lower until Jack is on his knees. He pushes Mac back until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t know how you plan to shut me up when you’re not keeping my mouth occupied,” Mac snarks, leaning back on his hands. “Your strategy is-” He doesn’t finish as Jack slips between his knees and immediately takes Mac into his warm, wet mouth, all the way into his throat. No lead up, no foreplay, he swallows all of Mac in one swift movement, before slowly coming back off again. Mac lets out a stuttered moan, Jack’s name lost in the noises somewhere.

Mac’s head falls back, his eyes rolling up, lost in pleasure as Jack’s lips clamp down and wring sighs and moans and mumbled words from him. Suddenly Jack’s mouth is gone, air cold against Mac’s spit-slick skin. He opens his eyes and looks down to see Jack sitting back on his heels.

“Don’t you dare close them baby blues for even a minute,” Jack says, hands running up Mac’s thighs, stomach, neck, and up to touch gently at the glasses Mac had forgotten he was wearing. Who knew Jack’s glasses fetish was so intense?

Jack leans over Mac’s thigh and grabs the bottle of lube from the night table. He slicks his fingers up and tosses the bottle aside before moving closer again. Mac puts a hand to Jack’s cheek, the stubble rough against his palm, and runs his thumb over Jack’s lower lip, wet with spit. He slips his thumb inside and Jack bites at it playfully before he sucks it in and swirls his tongue around it, an eyebrow raised.

Mac breathes out a long “yeah,” before he pulls his thumb back out. His hand still on Jack’s cheek, eyes still locked, he pulls Jack’s beautiful soft lips back toward his body.

Not normally so obedient, rarely ceding control in their sex life, Jack does as instructed and lets Mac guide him. He uses the same tongue trick around the head of Mac’s cock that he’d used on his thumb, making Mac want to roll his eyes up again, but he doesn’t and keeps them focused on Jack. Mac’s hand moves up into Jack’s velvet-soft hair and he puts soft pressure there for Jack to continue. Unbelievably Jack complies, taking Mac all the way into his mouth again, all the way back into his throat.

“Oh yeah,” Mac sighs out, letting his hand drop away so Jack can regain control of himself.

Mac tries to sit back on his hands, but his elbows are wobbly from the pleasure that’s making his body quiver, so he falls onto his back. Needing to keep eye contact, he pushes himself back up onto his elbows to meet Jack’s warm brown gaze while he slowly takes mouthful after mouthful of Mac.

Jack slows his mouth to match the movement of his wet, gentle fingers as he slips one inside.

Again, Mac wants to let his head fall back onto the soft bed and close his eyes to the pleasure, instead he shudders and keeps his eyes on Jack. 

As he continues to relax, Jack adds a second finger, and this time when he reaches all the way deep inside he crooks his fingers. Mac cries out, not a moan, not a scream, but something somewhere in between. “Oh god Jack, right there!” This time he can’t control himself and he lets his head fall back to the bed as he twitches with excitement.

Jack slips his mouth off and Mac whines with the loss of that extra bit of sensation. “Right there?” Jack asks, voice husky as he curls his fingers again. “Like that?”

“Oh yes!” Mac fists his hands in the comforter. “Just like that!”

Jack’s fingers slide back away from that spot, away from the “yes” place.

Mac sits up on his elbows. “Don’t stop,” he moans, “oh god please don’t stop.”

“I was pretty clear I didn’t want you closin’ them eyes for nothin’ at all,” Jack says, fully serious.

“You have no idea how difficult-”

“Oh, I got an idea,” Jack smirks and with no warning, slips those two fingers back inside, his dark eyes all fire and excitement. “I’m right here Mac. Stay here with me.”

“I’m. Here.” Mac needs a breath for each word from the way his heart is racing. “Oh. God. Jack. I’m…” his words trail off to a whine as he resists the urge to fall back onto the bed again.

Jack smiles wide and nods before he bends his fingers again and Mac sees spots.

“Just like that?” Jack asks, knowing full well that it’s just like that. “You with me Mac?”

“I’m. With… oh yes! Right. There. Jack!”

Jack slips out again, but Mac sees the reason in those brown eyes and knows what’s coming next, so he’s patient and doesn’t beg this time.

Three fingers slide slowly in. Jack’s always so careful. This is Mac’s favourite part. Not just the pleasure of it, but it’s the point when he always trips over the arousing thought that those three fingers are making space for Jack. Those three fingers make it possible for them to take pleasure in each other. And that thought always drives Mac more than a little insane. As soon as it crosses his mind, he knows Jack sees it in his eyes because the gasp that comes out of him is hungry and full of wanting and impatience.

“Tell me you’re with me,” Jack pleads as he finds that spot inside again.

It’s taking all of his effort not to break eye contact with Jack. He shakes all over with the effort. “Yes. I am. Jack. I…” 

Jack shakes his head. “Mac,” his voice is soft and comforting, “tell me you’re with me.”

That soothing voice does it, and Mac’s whole body relaxes in one breath while the waves of building pleasure wash through his body like radio signals, being interpreted and distributed but not disrupting. “I’m with you Jack.”

Jack smiles. “You ready?” He asks.

Mac nods. “Mmhmm,” is all he can get out.

Jack pushes his fingers in all the way in one more time before he slips out.

Mac lets his head fall back onto the bed again and shudders out a breath. Jack stands and grabs Mac to manhandle him to the middle of the bed.

“No,” Mac squeaks out before Jack can move him.

“What?” Jack’s concern is evident in his voice as he freezes. “You ok?”

Mac smiles and looks at Jack. “I am so much more than ok.” He stands up, and points to the headboard. “You sit there.”

Jack jumps onto the bed as told and sits back against the headboard. Mac crawls up to join him, straddling Jack’s thighs.

“Wait…” Jack narrows his eyes and puts his hands on Mac’s hips. “Are you… are we doing what I think…”

It’s a new position for them, but it will give Mac the control over Jack he’s been toying with all night and wants to keep. Mac winks, takes Jack in hand, pushes up on his knees and sinks himself down on Jack’s cock. Jack’s barely inside before Mac stops. It’s a little painful, and he realizes immediately their mistake. He shifts off again and drapes himself over the side of the bed looking for the bottle of lube that Jack tossed somewhere.

Jack caresses what he can reach of Mac while he searches for the bottle.

Those soft touches start to drive Mac insane, the need for release, and pleasure too much for him to take. He opens the drawer of the night stand and grabs the fresh bottle stashed there. He pours a liberal amount onto his hand and strokes Jack a few times to get him wet and ready.

Mac crawls back on top, itching with need. He meets Jack’s wide and excited eyes as he slips down, slowly. So slowly. Torturously slow. About halfway Mac stops, needing to let himself adjust, despite not wanting to. Jack’s hands grip Mac’s hips tight and help to support some of his weight.

“You alright?” Jack asks, that perpetual concern in his voice.

Mac doesn’t trust himself to speak words, and just nods, swallowing heavily. After a moment he lowers himself the rest of the way. Jack immediately pulls him down for a kiss, and they sit like that, joined and whole, moaning and grunting into each other’s mouths, hands moving everywhere hurriedly.

They break the kiss for air, and as they breath heavily, mouths still almost touching, Mac lifts himself slowly up, feeling the loss of that pressure inside until he slides back down again. 

The rhythm builds slowly, and Mac loves watching Jack’s face with every change in sensation. Jack’s normally in control, on top and thrusting, he’s not used to wondering what comes next. Mac loves surprising him. Changing the speed; Pulling up further, and faster, and sliding back down slowly. Jack is watching Mac like it’s the first time they’ve had sex, his eyes full of emotion and pleasure and happiness.

“You’ve got no idea how good this is,” Jack says, hands around Mac’s back, desperately gripping at the skin there.

“Oh, I think I’ve got-” Mac takes his own breath away before he can finish, shifting his hips just the right way to shoot fiery pleasure up his spine when his body meets Jack’s.

“Yeah,” Jack gasps, “just like that Mac.” Grip tight, he pulls Mac that little bit further down.

Mac cries out Jack’s name, and plants his hands on the wall above the headboard.

Jack licks at Mac’s collarbone. That wet tingle adding to the mountain of sensations that are driving Mac crazy.

“Oh god Jack,” trips from his mouth, and he’s not thinking about what he’s saying anymore, he’s just letting his brain fumble things out into the air between them. He moves faster and faster and with each bolt of pleasure more words tumble out. “Yes Jack!… Oh god… I can’t… Too good… Deeper… Yes!… Right there!… Right there!”

The sweat builds up between them, dripping down their bodies, and as Mac leans over Jack, getting closer and closer to release, the glasses he’d forgotten he was wearing fall off and land on Jack’s chest.

Distracted, Mac slows. He grabs the glasses, and throws them across the room, silently cursing the stupid things for ruining the mood. His eyes follow where they land, tumbling behind a bag full of Jack’s clothes they’re still trying to find a place for. Suddenly Mac’s overcome with emotion and he crumbles on top of Jack.

Laying against Jack’s chest, listening to his breath and his heartbeat moving his body he feels overwhelmed in the best possible way. Jack is inside him, their bodies one as hands tangle in his blonde hair, caressing lovingly. And all around them, in his house… _their_ house… Jack’s things have mingled with his, their life becoming one. Jack surrounds him in every way and it’s wonderful and everything he never knew he wanted.

Jack plants his feet on the mattress, supporting Mac from every side; thighs against thighs, stomachs pressed together, an arm around him, the other tangled in his hair, a soft kiss to his temple while Mac buries his face in Jack’s neck.

“What do you want Mac?” Jack asks softly, lips in his hair above his ear.

“I want you Jack,” Mac answers, trying to keep the overwhelming emotion from his voice and failing miserably as Jack’s name catches in his throat.

Jack pushes Mac up enough that their eyes can meet again. “You got me Mac,” he says, laid bare in that look. “Always. I ain’t never leavin’ less you tell me to.”

“That’s never going to happen,” Mac says.

Jack smiles and nods. “You go kaboom-”

“-We go kaboom,” Mac finishes.

Jack’s eyes mist up, and he pulls Mac down for a soft kiss.

“You ready?” Jack asks, pulling away.

“Please,” Mac all but begs.

With his feet planted on the mattress Jack has control again, and Mac’s just fine with that. They’re in this thing together, and he doesn’t mind the way they pass that trust back and forth. Jack’s thrusts start soft and gentle, but before long Mac has his hands on the wall to hold himself back and keep from hitting his head.

They stay close, mouths ready to share needy kisses and whisper things in each other’s ears at any moment.

Mac makes requests: “Deeper… Jack… Right there… Faster… god yes!… Right there!”

Jack does sex just like anything else he does in life, talking the whole while, “Mac baby, it feels so good. I can’t tell you the things you do to me. Good lord Mac! I ain’t lettin’ you go. Come for me Mac. God I wanna make you feel so good.” Words just keep tumbling out, sometimes repeated, always sincere.

Mac grabs Jack’s arm, and guides his hand between them. Jack catches on and takes Mac in hand, closing his fingers tight, stroking in an uneven rhythm that matches his ragged breaths.

Jack is moving so fast that Mac’s not sure where one spike of pleasure ends and the next begins and as they all fade into one his body tightens and Jack draws the most intense orgasm from him that he’s ever had. He cries out and calls Jack’s name over and over, his body shuddering and tightening, come spilling between them as he holds tight to Jack.

Jack comes moments later, and they become a heaving heap of sweat and emotion and come and contentment.

Mac is spent, unable to move any part of his body, he sinks into Jack and starts to drift off immediately. Jack pushes off the mattress and rolls them to the side where they stay tangled together, but can breath more easily.

“I think I’ll keep you, you’re nice to have around,” Jack whispers, as he brushes the hairs from Mac’s face.

Mac smiles sleepily, his eyes still closed. They don’t say I love you a lot. It’s not that they don’t feel it, or that it isn’t important to them, but “I want you around” means a whole lot more to both of them. People throughout both of their lives had said “I love you” and left anyway.

Mac’s sleepy brain searches for the best way to return the sentiment and tell Jack he wants him around. He settles on: “Welcome home Jack,” before he drifts off to sleep.


End file.
